


but we could never stay away (from each other)

by adorassword



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), my first spop story yell heah!
Genre: Angst, Balcony Scene, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Post canon, Rating is for swearing, but like mostly angst tee bee aych, how do u tag :/, jlkdjflkdj, oh WAIT jfhgkdhfkjd i forgot um, oh and uhhh, so like tw!!!, tea em, um, umm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorassword/pseuds/adorassword
Summary: “Why the fuck…” Adora begins, voice thick with sleep as stares up at her conspicuously open window that she had made sure was conspicuouslynot openbefore she fell asleep—because Adora’s paranoia is kind of a bitch—when she stops abruptly. A strangely familiar figure is perched on her balcony, standing out strikingly against the moonlit sky. It—they—are abnormally still considering how windy the night is. Adora carefully sits up and twists around, shaky elbows struggling to carry her weight, and squints at the silhouette, when she suddenly realizes that the person in front of her window looks suspiciously like…“Catra?” she whispers, oddly afraid that raising her voice would dissipate the illusion.Maybe-Probably-Not-Catra jumps. Then they turn around to face Adora, and when she sees their wary feline eyes glinting underneath the moonlight, Adora is instantlysureit’s Catra.__in other words: a balcony scene, bc how could inot





	but we could never stay away (from each other)

**Author's Note:**

> theres _so_ much _italics_ in this _fic_ i _literally cant_
> 
> also—there are, like, a bunch of these dashing thingies—just so you know—u know, to make sure

::

 

Adora wakes to faint breathing and the slightest rustle of movement.

Her eyes slowly scan the room— _her_ room—without seeing anything out of the ordinary, but just as she’s about to dismiss it as another dream—because of, you know, all the fucking _trauma_ —a slight breeze hits her face, and the drapes flutter again.

“Why the fuck…” Adora begins, voice thick with sleep as stares up at her _conspicuously_ open window that she had _made sure_ was conspicuously _not_ open before she fell asleep—because Adora’s paranoia is kind of a bitch—when she stops abruptly. A strangely familiar figure is perched on her balcony, standing out strikingly against the moonlit sky. It— _they_ —are abnormally still considering how windy the night is. Adora carefully sits up and twists around, shaky elbows struggling to carry her weight, and squints at the silhouette, when she suddenly realizes that the person in front of her window looks suspiciously like…

“Catra?” she whispers, oddly afraid that raising her voice would dissipate the illusion.

Maybe-Probably-Not-Catra jumps. Then they turn around to face Adora, and when she sees their wary feline eyes glinting underneath the moonlight, Adora is instantly _sure_ it’s Catra.

“Catra!” Adora repeats, louder and sharper but still in that same careful whisper, and she opens her mouth do something else (what, exactly, she doesn’t know—scream? say Catra’s name _again_?) but she hesitates for an instant too long, and Catra’s voice immediately floods the room, calculated and hesitant.

“Um, Adora,” Catra begins, voice cracking as her tail curls and uncurls around her wrist. “Fancy seeing you here.”

And Adora? Adora isn’t _used_ to that—that _nervousness_ in Catra’s voice and that stiffness in her posture that Adora has seen before but that’s never been directed at _Adora_ , and for one brief moment, she feels an odd pang of guilt for making Catra look at her _that_.

“Yeah,” she manages, words devoid of the malice they _should_ have contained as she tucks her legs under her body in that weirdass—what had Glimmer called it?— _criss-cross applesauce_ thing. “Fancy seeing me in my own _room_.”

Catra turns her head to the side, and the moonlight no longer illuminates her features, but for some reason, Adora can almost swear that she sees a smirk on her face. “Y’know what I was _trying_ to say, dumbass.”

“’Course I do,” Adora retorts, and then she just _laughs_ , because this is so fucking _weird_ , sitting here and bantering with her ex-best friend after they’d tried to _kill_ each other just a week ago, after they’d become the faces of two sides of a war whose only purpose was to end each other, and as Catra’s laughter joins her own, Adora can’t help but think that this still feels way too fucking _normal_.

“Say,” Adora starts abruptly, “why’re you even here?”

“Um.” Catra pauses, and then she shrugs awkwardly. “Long story. Can I get down from here?”

Adora begins to say that yeah, duh, _sure_ , _Catra_ , but the words die in her throat as she registers Catra’s words. Suddenly she’s hyper aware of the fact that even though Catra is _Catra_ she’s still the _enemy_ , that for all Adora knows she’s letting a spy distract her while Bright Moon is—is being _attacked_ or something.

“Why are you _here_ , Catra.” And it isn’t really a question so much as a quiet statement, a _Please prove me wrong_ , a _Please be_ my _Catra and not this new Catra that I don’t even know anymore_.

Catra is silent for a moment, tail twisting nervously. Then she mutters something indecipherable and gazes at Adora, scowling faintly.

Adora squints at her expectantly.

“What do you _want_ me to say, Princess?” Catra says finally.

Adora flinches. _Princess_. Like suddenly she’s only a label all over again. “The _truth_ , Catra.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“ _Why_ ,” Catra repeats, “does it _matter_ , Adora, I don’t—maybe I don’t wanna tell you maybe you don’t—maybe we don’t have to just, um, fuck, I, fuck, Adora, I have to, I can’t—” And suddenly Catra is crying and her breath is coming out in short bursts and Adora doesn’t know what to _do_.

Adora climbs onto the balcony, cursing as her leg gets tangled in the drapes, and silently pulls Catra down. And for a while, all they do is sit on the cold marble floor, Adora’s arms enveloping Catra as her body shakes with silent sobs.

“I just missed you ’s all,” Catra mumbles, words muffled as she buries her face in Adora’s chest.

Her stupid metal headpiece—Adora’s birthday gift from when they were eleven that, years later, Catra said she still wore only to embarrass Adora (and Adora had believed it, but now that she’s gone and Catra _still_ wears it she wonders whether that’s really why)—presses uncomfortably against her body. Adora looks down and notices that the usually irritating bronze glint is muted to a dark beige under the moonlight.

“Yeah?” Adora says softly. Somehow she knows that this is some sort of _exposition_ , that this is the calm before a storm that’ll tear them farther apart then they’d ever been.

Somehow she knows that in the end, they’ll still find each other.

“I mean, I just—” Catra removes Adora’s arms from around her and twists around to face her, and as Catra stares intently at her, Adora can’t help reaching out to Catra’s face and tracing the bags under her eyes that, although reddened by her crying, are strikingly visible. Catra gasps softly, so softly that Adora wouldn’t have taken notice had they not been nearly pressed together, but she doesn’t move Adora’s hand away.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Adora observes as she puts her arm down. _I know why_ , she almost adds. _I haven’t been sleeping either_.

“Yeah, no shit.” Catra sighs and looks up at the night sky. “Guess they call it Bright Moon for a reason, huh?”

Adora hums in agreement, and then she bites her lip. “I… Catra, you know I miss you too, right?”

Catra snickers, but it has no mirth; instead it’s all shades of bitter and self-deprecation and _wrong_. “’Course you miss me. I was the only person you hung out with for, like, how old are we again? Fifteen years?” She laughs again. “But, Adora, the difference between us is that you’re not the one who broke into a fucking _castle_ not even to get valuable information even though you’re the _enemy_ but because you haven’t been able to sleep without someone next to you and—and you’re not the one who had a fucking _panic attack_ on your ex-best friend’s _castle balcony_.”

“Catra—”

“Look, Adora, all I’m saying is you have _people_ here and yeah you’ll _miss_ me, but…” She trails off and looks at where the dark circles that Adora knows are under her eyes must be. “Give it long enough, Adora, and I’ll be another tainted Horde memory for your nightmares.”

“ _Catra_ ,” Adora says again. “Catra, what the hell do you mean?”

“You _know_ what I meant.”

Um, what the fuck? “No, I _don’t_ know what you _meant_ , you fucking _idiot_.”

Catra just smiles.

“Catra,” Adora breathes, grasping for something— _anything_ —to wipe that look off Catra’s face. “It’s not… Catra, it isn’t your _fault_.”

Catra shakes her head, but her expression wavers. “You know, Adora,” she says quietly, “this is what I hate about you.” She pauses. “You never know when to _stop_.”

It feels like Catra is trying to tell her something _more_ , something beyond her words, but even as she studies Catra’s face, trying to decipher her message, Adora can’t quite grasp what it is.  “I… What?”

Catra turns around again and leans in so close that her eyes, one blue and one yellow, merge into a disorienting blob of green that forces Adora to look away. But Catra reaches forward and places one gloved hand underneath Adora’s chin and gently guides her face back to where it was, and Adora just _sits_ there, face tingling at Catra’s touch.

“Adora,” Catra whispers, her eyes a well full of sorrow. “Adora, you left when you knew. But I _knew_ and I _didn’t_ , and—” She sighs and looks to the ground. “Nothing’s ever gonna change that, Adora.”

“Catra, it’s not too late,” Adora tries, gripping Catra’s shoulders as her voice breaks with desperation. “You could just… Come here and then… We could be _together_.”

Catra looks up at Adora and smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, ‘Dora,” she murmurs, shaking Adora’s hands off and standing up. “I… This isn’t about _us_. This is about _me_ and about _you_ and about the Horde and your Rebellion. This about me being a _coward_ and about you being… So fucking _innocent_.”

“But… _Catra_ ,” Adora breathes, wildly searching for something to make Catra stay, but her mouth goes dry.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Catra says, and her _Princess_ sounds almost endearing. She leans over and kisses Adora on the cheek, and then, before either of them can react, Catra hops onto the balustrade and swoops into the night.

 

When Adora wakes up on her balcony the next morning with only vague memories of a strange dream, she’s not quite sure why her first instinct is to clutch her left cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this ex oh ex oh!!! if u kudo i'll die for but if u comment i'll sacrifice my soul for u too,,,,,,,,,,,JFDLKFD
> 
> heres my [tumblr](http://adorassword.tumblr.com/) if u wanna say hi!!
> 
> __  
> anyway the unimportant stuff:
> 
> \- this was SUPPOSED to be part of 5+1 things fic but then it got rlly long & stopped centering around the Thing so it became its own fic 
> 
> \- also the 5+1 was supposed to have a dance scene so im sad i didnt get to put it :( i already wrote the scene tho so i MIGGGHT make it part of its own fic or upload it as a second chapter POSSIBLY if like yall want me to kdlgj
> 
> \- this is my first esspop fic so uh yeah eye dee kay if theyre ooc but like idk i tried ljdkkls. also YES my only other fic on here is vee el dee but its romellura fluff so u should still read it 😤😤😤 KLDJFKD


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